


Attack on Twilight

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe- Highschool, F/F, Twilight AU, Vampires, didnt actually finish reading twilight because it sucked, this started off as a crackfic and then i got into it, werewolfs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-04 22:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1794928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On her 17th birthday, Krista Lenz moves from the hustle-and-bustle of the city to the boring town-life of Trost. There's a slight issue though- her lab-partner doesn't seem fully human at the best of times, and the resident slacker may or may not have the hots for her.</p><p>Originally crack, this is a Twilight inspired AU featuring werewolfs, vampires, and a supernatural love triangle. (Just kidding, though. Fuck love triangles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Except for the beginning (and the whole werewolf/vampire situation), very few elements are actually copied directly from Twilight. I couldn't finish more than the first few chapters of the novel, and everything else was either googled or bullshat.

On the day of my seventeenth birthday I find myself on a near empty bus, travelling as far away from the busy city I had once lived in; to the comparatively quaint town of Trost. It was my father’s wish for me to experience a new life; far away from the dangerous inner city politics he surrounded himself with in Maria.

I had put a put a notice up in the town newspaper for lodging, and I was contacted by Grisha Jaeger, a doctor with a son and daughter about my age. He said he had an empty flat for rent, and after hearing about my situation was happy to let me live there temporarily, provided I looked after the place. I thanked him many times before hanging up the phone and packing a suitcase.

After what felt like a lifetime of driving, the bus finally groaned to a stop. I nod at the driver as I hop off, excitement bubbling through me. This would be a far cry from the bustling city I knew, but this would be great. I just knew it.

The flat was better than I expected and it was in great condition. It was small, yes, but considering I was to be living by myself I wasn’t too concerned with space. I haven’t packed much more then necessities. Out of habit, I check the fridge for food. To my surprise, there’s a casserole dish with a note taped to it. Dr Jaeger’s wife, Carla, had apparently baked me a dinner as a home-warming present. I’m taken aback by all the kindness the Jaeger’s have shown me so far, and I make a mental note to thank them all as soon as possible.

I walk to my room, deep in thought. I haven’t been to a proper school for years, not since I was 10, and was looking forward to making friends my own age. I briefly wonder how well I would fit in- _if_ I would fit in. Everyone had grown up together and it was well into the school year, so social groups and cliques would be formed. But, I thought, with such a small group, it was unlikely there would be strongly defined cliques, _especially_ since everyone had grown up together.

I push that thought aside and walk over to the mirror. Facing my reflection, I go to tie my hair up. I wouldn’t say I was pale, but my skin is fair despite living previously in a sunny state. I have no freckles, and my skin is clear. I’m pretty short too, not even five feet. My hair is a light blonde and came down to my shoulders, and straight enough for me to only need to brush it occasionally. Under my eyes are bags and I change into my pyjamas and start my evening routine.

I slept well that night, despite all my excitement. I wake up early and eat the leftovers from last night and change into jeans and a button up shirt. Grabbing my backpack and locking the door behind me, I walk out the house and down the driveway in search of the school. I regret my decision not to wear a jumper out the door almost instantly, but thankfully I packed one in my backpack for later.

It didn’t take too long to find the school, like most other things it was just off the highway. It wasn’t obviously a school, other than the sign, more like a collection of similarly coloured buildings. I walk to a building with ‘administration’ written on the door. The office is small and brightly lit, with olive carpet and a row of fold up chairs. I walk up to the front desk, where a slight, redheaded woman is sat. She smiles at me as I approach.

“You must be Krista,” she states, beaming. “Don’t look so surprised- you’re the first new student we’ve had in years. Of course you stick out a little.” She handed me my schedule and a map of the school.

“Thank you, Miss…?”

She waves her hand dismissively. “Call me Petra. I hope you have a good day at school!”

When I walk outside, students were already beginning to arrive. I followed the majority of them on foot, through the building used as a school-hall and the cafeteria.  As I walk through, I found the class I needed easily- there was a large ‘three’ painted on the door.

I hand a slip to the teacher who had name-plate on the desk identifying him as ‘Mike Zacharius’. He breathed in heavily through his nose, and then nodded at me with a slight smirk. He directs me to a seat in the back row, in-between two boys. The boy on my right looks at me, smiling awkwardly.

“You’re Krista, right?” I nod. “I’m Armin.” He gestures to the people on my left. “That’s Eren and Mikasa Jaeger.”

Armin was a smallish boy with fluffy blonde hair cropped below his ears. Eren was taller and tanned, with dark brown hair. Mikasa, his sister, looked nothing like him. She was fair skinned with almond shaped eyes and long black hair. Eren turns to me with a grin.

“How’re you finding the flat?”

I run my hand through my hair. “It’s nice! I really appreciate the dinner your mum cooked me. I’ll return the dish as soon as possible-”

He cuts me off, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. Mum’s happy to lend you things.” As an afterthought, he adds “We all hope you like it here.”

I nod, smile and turn away, focusing on my work, scanning the list of books assigned to read. It was all classic literature, things I had read before; Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. Armin leans towards me and whispers.

“Don’t mind Mikasa, she doesn’t talk much. She’s not- she’s not shy or anything, she just doesn’t really do small talk.”

“Okay,” I whisper back. It was remarkable how willing people were to talk to a total stranger here. It was probably because they hadn’t seen anyone new in years.

The bell rings for the next class and I shuffle out of my seat.

“Who do you have next?” Armin asked.

“Mr Smith for history,” I replied. “You?”

“Oh, Erwin. Right. I’m pretty sure Mikasa has him next. You should follow her.”

I smile carefully at Mikasa and she nods back, so I follow her out of the class.

“Why does everyone call the teachers by their first name?” _Wait, shit. Mikasa doesn’t do small talk._

She doesn’t respond for a moment and I sweat, the silence becoming awkward. She finally replies, with some hesitation; “that’s a good question, actually. I don’t know. We do call some of them by their surnames; like Mr Pixis.” She pauses, before adding “that’s probably because he has a weird name, though.”

We walk into the classroom and she picks a seat near the back. I sit next to her.

“What’s his name?”

“Dot.”

I frown and she finally cracks a grin. “Is it short for anything?”

 “Student consensus is its short for Dorothy, but he’s never confirmed it.”  She shakes her head, still grinning. “But he’s never denied it, either.”

Erwin Smith coughs to get our attention, so we all look to the front. I grab my history text book from my backpack and open it to the front page. History isn’t my strongest subject, but I’m not particularly bad at it either. Despite the fact it was halfway through the year, I found it easy enough to keep up. At the end of class, Mr Smith- or Erwin, I was still uncertain what to call him- wrote in the textbook page numbers I would have to catch up on by myself, and told me to see him out of class if I has having any serious difficulties with it.

Mikasa wasn’t in my next class, so I had to find my way by myself. I finally had a use for the map Petra had given me. After two or so classes I started to recognise people’s faces, but I still sat with Armin or Eren or Mikasa when they were there.

I follow Armin to lunch. We sit at the end of a table with the rest of his friends, many whom I recognise vaguely from the morning. Armin introduced them. Next to Mikasa was Jean, who had light brown, almost reddish hair with shaven sides and black regrowth. He kept looking at Mikasa as if he wanted to speak to her, but he never did. Next to Jean was Marco, who was freckled and smiled constantly. Connie had buzzed hair, sat on the end and was shovelling food into his mouth, as was the girl across from him, Sasha. They looked like they were having a competition.

“Who sits there?”  I say, pointing to the empty space in the corner. 

“That is Ymir’s spot,” Sasha says carefully through a lunch burrito. ‘Sometimes she doesn’t go to school. She’s weird like that.”

 “She’s also a huge bitch,” Connie sprays. Sasha punches his shoulder and he chokes.

 “She’s not _that_ bad,” Sasha says lightly while thumping his back. “She is pretty rude, though.”

I noticed a table in in the corner of the cafeteria, with three occupants. They had full lunch trays in front of them, but they weren’t eating. They were talking to each other, quietly and intensely, so I didn’t feel like I’d get caught staring. That would be awkward.

They were obscenely pale, all three of them. I thought _I_ was fair, but they almost glowed from all the light they reflected. The two boys were tall, dwarfing me.  The shorter one was blonde and well built, with broad shoulders and a square jaw. The taller boy was lanky, almost to the point of being gangly, with dark hair. He was looked constantly on edge. They were both talking to a far shorter girl, who was blonde with a strong nose. She looked disinterested in the conversation, but still contributed more than the dark haired boy.

“Who are _they,_ ” I ask Armin, gesturing to the table. As he looked up, the blonde boy did too, making eye contact with Armin then Eren then Mikasa, then the whole table. He looked at me for a fraction longer, probably seeing if he knew me. He then smiled and waved, making the dark haired boy cringe and sink in his seat, his face flushing red as he muttered something to the girl next to him. The girl just raised an eyebrow.

I waved back, hesitantly.

“Oh, that’s Reiner, Reiner Braun! He’s pretty cool. He’s in our science class. The tall guy next to him is Bertholt Fubar, and the girl is Annie Leonhardt. Those two don’t talk much. I think they’re all cousins or something.” He shrugs. “They’re from Alaska.” He nodded as if that explained everything.

The bell rang to signal the end of lunch, so I sat up and walked over to my locker to get my bag. I pretended to ignore Sasha grabbing the food of my tray and stuffing it in her pockets, but she put away the tray so it wasn’t like I was going to complain.

I follow Armin and Eren to science. they entered the classroom, they sat at a lab table near the front. I realised I’d have to find a lab partner, and soon also realised all the tables were filled except one. _That’s convenient_. Next to the centre aisle, I recognised Reiner Braun by his massive frame, sitting next to that one last seat.

As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher, I watched him out the corner of my eye. As I passed he did nothing except look up at with an easy-going grin. I nod at him and smile back. The teacher introduces themselves as Hanji, and enthusiastically gives me the handouts I’ve missed. They point at the seat next to Reiner and tell me I can sit there, as if I had any other options.

I set up my book on the table and turn to look at Reiner. He’s still gazing at me with coal black eyes, chin resting on hand. He seems fascinated by me, which I would probably find more flattering if he wasn’t nearly twice my height and as pale as a corpse.

“We haven’t met, have we? You’re new here.” he’s smiling slightly. “I’m Reiner.”

“I know,” I say as I reach into my pencil case. “Armin told me.”

“Armin? He’s pretty cool. I mean, he creeps me out a bit-” I raised an eyebrow. That’s a bit rich coming from a guy who wouldn’t look out of place in a zombie horde. He shrugs. “He’s just really smart, you know? It can get uncomfortable.” Huh. He’s insecure. Fascinating.

 Hanji turns on the projector and instructs us to take notes. It’s on human anatomy, something I haven’t studied before. I take notes carefully, glancing across at Reiner. He’s drawing on his work, not really paying attention. It looks like he’s eyeballing the muscle chart on the projector, but he’s given the figure a wider mouth and it’s… leaning over a wall? That’s _weird._ Really weird. Next to it he’s drawing another figure breaking through a gate and-

He’s a good artist, I’ll give him that. His content is just odd. I stop looking his shoulder, because I forgot to take notes on the last slide. _Shit._ I’d have to get them off someone later. My pen slips out of my hand and I realise there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to reach the floor from this height. Reiner bends down and grabs it for me.

“Thanks,” I say as I grab it from him. My hand brushes his and I shudder. “Your hand’s cold,” I say casually. He shrugs. “Like, really cold. Are you sick or something?” 

“I just don’t retain heat.” He shrugs.

“Oh, okay.” I don’t believe him, considering he’s wearing a t-shirt in the middle of winter, but whatever. Maybe he likes the freezing cold. _Maybe he’s a robot_. I shiver again, and finally relent and take my jumper out of my bag. It’s still warm from this morning. I pull it down over my head. My hair’s all mussed up, so I flatten it down with my palm. He’s looking at me again, intensely. _Definitely a robot._

“Yeah?”

“Do you-” he pauses and licks his lips. “Do you want to hang out some time?”

As I open my mouth to respond the bell rings, so I nod. The class begins to file out, and I start to pack my books away. “That sounds fun,” I finally say. “Not tonight, though. I’ve still got to settle in.” he nods back and smiles kindly as he moves out of his seat.

“Awesome,” he says. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

The rest of the day went past smoothly, and for the first time in years I did gym class. I wasn’t the best, but I wasn’t close to the worst, either. I was fitter than I thought I would be, and decided next year I would definitely _consider_ joining a sports team.

I walked home in the cold, hands in my pockets. I was pleased with my first day of school, and the friends I had made. I never really got to hang around with kids my age, back with my parents.  I wondered how my parents were going, briefly. I pushed that thought out of my head. Some things were best not dwelt on.

I found the flat comfortably warm, thankfully. I changed into my pyjamas and spent the evening catching up on schoolwork, doing my homework and reading. I had no clock visible on the wall, so by the time I checked my watch it was close to midnight and sheepishly I went to bed, despite not really feeling tired.

The next morning I slept in until about seven, and begrudgingly rolled out of bed and changed unto something more suitable for school. I was feeling the relatively-late night all over, my whole body ached and my vision was fogged until I went to wash my face. I desperately needed a dose of caffeine, so after packing my books for school I found my way to the only café in town.

After my much needed cappuccino, I finally walked to school. I had barely sculled half of it before I bumped into someone, sending my cup flying. I stared forlornly at my spilt coffee before mumbling a sorry up at whoever I ran into. They chuckled; not cruelly, but not kindly, and told me to _watch it next time, short-fry_. I looked up at whoever I ran into. She was about my age, tanned and freckled, but I didn’t recognise her from school so I just looked at my feet and wandered to school.

I slipped into the routine of school simply enough by the end of the morning. The novelty of school had begun to wear off, and my brain went into autopilot- listen to the teacher, copy the things on the board, do the assigned work, write notes.

I’m the first on the table for lunch, so I sit in the corner picking through my lunch tray. A person comes up from behind.

‘You’re in my spot, short fry.” I look up at a vaguely face, olive skinned and freckled. She’s wearing a tank top, despite the crisp weather, showing off well-toned arms. I quickly put two and two together.

“You must be Ymir!” I beam. She looks visibly taken aback by the enthusiasm and runs her fingers through her hair, scrunching up her face in confusion.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Krista,” I say as I stick out my hand for her to shake. She looks even more confused, but shakes my hand gingerly. “I’m new here- I moved here, maybe two days ago?” I nod, still smiling. She nods too, still frowning.

“I bumped into you today, didn’t I? I spilt your coffee.” Her face relaxes and she scratches the back of her neck. “I’m sorry about that.”

I shake my head. I’d forgotten all about that, honestly. “Don’t worry about it; I should have watched where I was going. I was nearly finished, too,” I mean, I kind of was. I’m not really lying.

She fumbles through her pockets and pulls out some coins. I shake my head. “It wasn’t the best coffee, anyway.”

She chuckles in agreement. “true, tastes like dirt.” She puts the coins back in her pocket and sits down next to me, her legs touching mine. She’s wearing shorts, which is ridiculous considering the weather, but she’s warm; I can feel her body heat even though my jeans.

“So, Ymir, why are you at school today?”

She grabs a chip off my tray and puts it in her mouth. “I’ve got woodwork next, and I want to finish my thing.” She hadn’t swallowed, so I can see bits of potato all through her mouth. It’s actually pretty gross.

I’m about to ask her what she’s making but someone slams their tray on the table, making both of us jump. “Holy shit,” Connie says to Sasha, who’s munching on a slice of pizza behind him. “Krista’s tamed the wild beast.”

Ymir glares at him with an intense, angry look, and he chokes up and starts coughing again. Sasha begins to whack his back again, but she’s got the same look of bemused wonder about her. Apparently, making conversation with Ymir is a Big Deal.

“What are you making?” I finally ask when Connie stops gasping for air. “In woodwork, I mean.”

She helps herself to a slice of my pizza before she responds, but I don’t really mind. “Bookshelf. Nothing impressive. Need one,” she says indistinctly.

The rest of the group files in, slowly, none of them really interacting with Ymir other than a quick ‘hey’ or a smile. She doesn’t acknowledge them past that, either, and I quietly wonder if she holds them all in contempt, or they fear her, or she just doesn’t know how to interact with them.

I grab the other slice of pizza and chew it slowly, looking aside at Ymir. She glances at me occasionally, with quiet sort of intensity. Our eyes meet and she smiles hesitantly, mouth still full of food. She’s either got no shame, or she was raised by wolves.

The bell signalling the end of lunch rings and she turns to me. “Do you want to hang out later? I live near the forest,” she adds.

I nod, smiling. “Sure! Do you have any more classes?”

Ymir looks startled by that question and pauses to think for a moment. She wipes her mouth and mumbles “I was going to skip after woodwork, but after I have home economics with Levi, I guess.”

“Oh, sweet, same here! I’ll meet you there.”

Ymir looks uncertain and touches the back of her neck awkwardly, looking down at her feet for a moment. She regains composure soon enough. “Yeah, sounds good.” She scratches her ear and mutters something about having to catch up in her own time.

As I walk away my pockets jingle, and I realise she put the coins in my pocket when I wasn’t looking. _Bastard._

I have a study period next, so I rewrite my notes. It takes up about half the period, and when I’m done I stretch and look around. Reiner’s on the desk behind me. I snap back to my desk, not really wanting to give an opportunity for conversation. I like him and all, but he’s also gives off a dangerous, intense vibe. I’m still not fully convinced he’s human.

Thankfully, he’s too busy staring down his work.

The more I hear about Reiner, the more confused I get. Armin seems to hold him in high esteem, and the general consensus is he’s a cheerful, easy-going guy. But at the moment, he’s brooding over his work, amber eyes-

Huh, that’s odd. I could have sworn his eyes were black yesterday.

I stare at him a little longer, before I realise how that might look to anyone watching. I look away, but not before triple checking his eyes are, indeed, a distinctive yellowish-brown.

I check the time, and I see it’s only five minutes to the next period. I file away my notes and pack up my pencil case. As I walk out the door, not really minding where I’m going, I bump into him. _Shit_.  
“Oh, hey Reiner!” I say, acting as if I hadn’t expected him to be here. Which I hadn’t, admittedly _. Be normal, Krista. Don’t bring up his eyes._ “Say, are your eyes always amber?” _you fucked it up, Krista._

He stares down at me for a moment, tense. “Contacts,” he says finally. “I’m wearing contacts. I forgot them yesterday. They’re yellow so I can find them easily if I drop them.” He pauses for a moment then licks his lips nervously and shakes his head, tutting. “My eyesight’s terrible- blind without them, you know?”

 _He is a really shitty liar._ “Oh, that makes sense! Good to know.” I try to look as unassuming as possible. I think it works, because his frame relaxes and he smiles cautiously at me. I look at my watch and act astonished by the time. “Look at that, I have to get to my other class. It’s on the other side of the school, you know?” _you are also a really shitty liar;_ I scold myself as I walk away. _He probably thinks you’re flirting with him or something._

Home Economics wasn’t as far away as I thought it was which made my atrocious lying even worse. I walked in and sat near the back out of habit. The teacher had his back to the classroom; he appeared to be meticulously cleaning the whiteboard. He was also pretty damn short by adult standards but I tried not to be too judgemental, considering my own petite structure. It was pretty amusing, though, and as the other students filed in I could see even _Armin_ was taller than him.

After about five minutes, Levi finally turned to address the class. He had a thin face and dark eyes, and he looked as if he’d rather pull out his own teeth than supervise twenty-something teenagers cook.

I look to the seat next to me and then look around the classroom. Ymir’s not here, and I wonder if she’s forgotten to come. _Or refused to, I guess._ Cooking doesn’t seem to be the kind of thing she’d be into.

Levi shoos us off to our cooking stations and returns to his own work. “There are recipes in the drawers. Don’t burn or cut yourself, and if you do; _make sure you clean up_.”

I lean on a bench uncomfortably. I’ve never cooked anything more complicated than two-minute noodles, and my partner still hasn’t showed up. I grab the recipe for ‘basic vanilla cake’ out of the drawer and scan it. I barely recognise any of these utensils. _This is so stupid._

There’s a knock on the classroom door and Ymir walks in, muttering something about a broken jigsaw. She doesn’t apologise for being late, and Levi raises his eyebrows as she walks in.

“Ah, Ymir, so nice of you to join us. I’m surprised you’re even real, to be honest. Rumour has it you don’t actually exist.” He doesn’t look surprised, to be honest. Bored, maybe, but not surprised.  He looks back down at his desk and Ymir flips him off as she walks over to me.

“Sorry I’m late,” she smiled. “I had to finish my bookshelf.”

“Did you finish it?” I ask as I turn to her.

She nods, visibly proud. “I just have to stain the wood, and that’ll be _easy_.” She looks down at the recipe. “Oh, cake. That’s _really_ hard. Glad to see you’re a risk taker.”

I punch her arm and she chuckles. “Okay, okay. Let’s get started. You grease the cake tin, and I’ll sieve the flour.

That doesn’t sound too difficult, even for someone as gastronomically challenged as me, so i grab some butter out of the fridge and attempt to grease the tin. I’m unsure how well I did, but when I show it to Ymir she nods and tells me to add the eggs.

Cracking eggs is not one of the things I’m skilled at, and I call over to Ymir, who’s drinking milk straight out of the carton. “Hey, Ymir, is it bad if I get shell in it?”

She wipes off her milk moustache and groans as she walks up behinds me. “Of course it is, you nerd. When was the last time you ate cake with shell in it?”

She picks the bits of shell out of the bowl and flicks them in the direction of the bin. Some go in, some don’t. she rests her chin on my shoulder and reaches under my arms, grabbing an egg and cracking it on the side of the bowl in a fluid motion. “See? No shell.”

She pulls away and I find myself missing her warmth, which is a totally reasonable response despite the heated classroom. She stands next to me and takes another swig of the milk, then pours the rest into the bowl. “That seems about right,” she shrugs. “Can I trust you to whisk it without messing it up?”

I purse my lips and she chuckles, ruffling my hair. “Don’t be so uptight, princess!”

Eventually we put the mixture into the oven. “Have you ever cooked before?” she leans on the bench and runs her floury hand through her hair.

I shake my head and she rolls her eyes. “What have you been living on, then?”

I rub my nose. “Toast, mostly.” I mutter, embarrassed. “It hasn’t even been a week, give me a break.”

It’s her turn to shake her head. “That’s so sad.”

“Are we going to make icing?” I say, trying to move the conversation away from my poor dietary habits.

“Why? They have the pre-made stuff in the cupboard.” She goes to get it and comes back, dipping her finger in the container. I groan.

“You’re so gross,”  roll my eyes. She chuckles and wipes some on my nose.

I correct myself. “no, sorry, _that_ was gross.”

When the cake has cooked and cooled, Ymir ices it. For all her bad habits and laziness, she’s surprisingly good with her hands. The icing is even and smooth all over when she’s done. As we wait for it to set, I tell her she has flour on her face. She wipes her nose, and I shake my head, so she wipes her chin.

“Idiot,” I say. “Let me.” I reach up and wipe the flour off her forehead. There’s a silence.

“You’ve got stuff on your face too,” she bends down slightly and tilts my jaw, looking at me intently, then wipes my cheek with her thumb. “All done,” she says softly.

“Thanks,” I whisper. I don’t know why I’m whispering. I can feel my heart in my chest. _This is weird_.

There’s another silence as we stand there, just looking at each other. “I think the cake’s done,” she says suddenly. She turns around and grabs a knife, cutting a slice and stuffing it in her mouth. She cuts me one and hands it to me. “Itsh goo’” she nods. “Eat shom.”

The cake is unexpectedly good, and I’m more than a little pleased with my efforts- as small as they were. Ymir seems to be pretty pleased with them too- she’s already eaten more than half of it. Cleaning up, on the other hand, isn’t so good- Ymir’s managed to get flour everywhere, and the bench is all sticky from the egg. Thankfully, we successfully clean up before Levi dismisses us from class, leaving everyone else to stay a few minutes after school to tidy up.

“Ha, suckers.” Ymir snorts as we walk out of the classroom. She picks up her bag and looks to me. “You still want to hang out?”

“I’m up for it,” I say as I swing my backpack on. “But I have to shower first. Some arsehole got flour in my hair.”

“I have a shower at my place,” she says, missing the jab. “I bet my house is closer than yours.”

It isn’t. I point out my flat as we walk past and she shrugs. “My bad.”  We reach her house and I’m surprised by how cute it is- it’s a small, wooden cabin surrounded by trees. We wipe our feet on the mat and I dump my books near the door.

“You going to take a shower now?” she gestures towards the bathroom as we walk past it. “If you want to, I could put your clothes in the wash.” She wrinkles her nose. “they’re covered in flour and stuff.”

I cross my arms. “That’s not really my fault, is it?”

She scratches the back of her neck and shrugs. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m offering.”

“Don’t look so serious,” I grin. “I was joking. I’ll leave them outside the shower.”


	2. Chapter 2

Her house is surprisingly clean, despite how gross it is when she eats and the mess she caused in home economics. The shower’s clean too, there’s no scum on the curtain or in the tiles. The toiletries are all nearly aligned by purpose on the wall of the shower. There’s toothpaste splattered in the sink and somehow on the mirror, but nobody’s perfect.

“Hey, Ymir” I call from the bathroom. “Are your parents home?”

“I don’t have parents,” she yells back.

“Oh, okay.” shit. “Sorry for asking.” I add.

I can hear her snigger from the lounge room.

After the bitter cold outside, the shower was amazing; high pressure, high heat. I can feel the cold drain out through my fingers. A few minutes later, Ymir bellows from another room.

“Yo, Krista! Do you eat garlic?”

That’s a weird question, but all right.  “Sure do, yeah.”

“How much?”

“All of it.”

There’s a period of quiet where I can hear her chuckling softly. “Sure thing, you dweeb.”

When I’m considerably warmer, I step out of the shower and look for a towel. Ymir has laid a fresh one near the door, with an oversized shirt and boxers on top. It looks like she’s taken my clothes to get washed, which is nice and all; but I feel like I’m going to be _swimming_ in the clothes she got me.

I find my way to the kitchen, where Ymir’s cooking pasta or something. She looks up at me and nods.

“Your clothing’s still got to dry but, “she looks me up and down and struggles to conceal a grin, “shit, you’re tiny! I mean, those are baggy on me, but…” she shakes her head, still smiling.

I look down at myself. The shirt nearly goes over my knees, and it covers my elbow. I make a face and she laughs. “I don’t know why you had to choose something so big, Ymir. I barely even come up to your chin!”

She shrugs. “Don’t look at me like that. They were clean-” she trails off, looking back at her dish. “You eat meat?”

I sit down opposite her. “Yeah, I do.”

When she cooks at home she’s a lot cleaner than when she cooks at school, which I guess says more about her feelings towards school than anything else.  Not that I’m analysing her; if I’ve learned anything over the past two days it’s that Ymir is as unpredictable as all hell.

It’s good pasta. Ymir wolfs her bowl down quickly and dishes herself another while I slowly eat mine. This girl is incredible. She ate nearly all my lunch, almost a whole cake by herself, _and she’s still hungry_. “How’re you finding Trost?” she says through a mouthful.

“It’s quiet, that’s for sure. Everyone’s really friendly too. But I guess that’s because you don’t get new people often?”

 She finishes her mouthful and shrugs. “I dunno. Made any friends?”

“Mikasa and Eren Jaeger are kind enough, and Armin’s pretty nice. I don’t really talk to the rest of the table.” She nods and I continue. “I mean, Reiner’s pretty weird.”

She bristles at Reiner’s name and curls her lip.

I look at her questioningly as I spear more pasta with my fork. “What’s wrong with Reiner? I mean, he’s kinda quirky but he’s nice enough.”

She looks down at her pasta moodily. “His whole family’s ‘quirky’,” she mutters.

“Yeah? What’ve they done?”

She shakes her head, still glaring at her pasta muttering something about ‘huge nerds’ and ‘insane family rivalry.’

I frown. “Ymir, be serious.”

She places chin on her hand and pokes at her pasta. “You’re in at least one of Reiner’s classes, right?”

I nod.

“He ever seemed odd, to you?”

“ _Has_ he ever seemed odd, to you,” I correct. _No,wait, don’t do that._

“No shit, Sherlock!” she looks frustrated. “That’s what _I’m_ asking!”

“No I- that’s not what I meant. Never mind.” I put my fork down. “I guess he’s really cold?”

“And human people are normally warm, right?”

“Well, he doesn’t wear jumpers, so I guess that’d make him pretty cold.”

“Human people are warm, Krista,” she says through gritted teeth. “Can you think of anything else, say, _supernatural_.” She looks fiercely intense as she says this, hands clasped and body tilted forward.

I think back to my first day at school, the first time I saw him and his tablemates, and remember how odd it was that he turned to look at us _just_ after I asked Armin about them. I shrug. “I don’t know- good hearing?”

“And?”

“I don’t think he eats.”

“ _And?”_

“His eyes change colour sometimes?”

She pauses and looks at me, puzzled. “How much young adult fiction have you read, Krista?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?  I’ve read plenty. Real depressing ones where everyone dies are my favourites.”

“Have you read any paranormal romances?”

“Well… no.”

“For real, Krista? What kind of a teenager are you?” she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Even I’ve read like, two. They weren’t so good, the protagonist was kind of boring.” She pauses. “What were we talking about, anyway?”

“Reiner.”

“Okay, right. So he’s white as fuck, cold as fuck, doesn’t eat, has superhuman abilities, _and his eyes change colour_. Finish this sentence for me- Reiner is a?”

“Robot.”

There’s a really long, painfully awkward silence as Ymir stares at me, shocked. She opens her mouth to say something- presumably scathing- then just scrunches her face up and shakes her head.

“What? It _totally_ makes sense. He doesn’t need to eat because he plugs into something at night for energy, and he’s cold because metal conducts heat and _there’s no damn heat in this town_.”

Ymir’s still speechless, eyes wide. She looks genuinely shocked and I feel pleased with myself. I’ll bet no one’s managed to do that before. As she regains her composure she presses her fingertips together. “Explain the eyes.”

“You know how when your phone runs out of battery, and the icon goes from green to red? It’s like that.”

“Holy shit,” she says. “Holy shit, _holy shit_. You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” I say, smiling sweetly as I rest my hand on my palm.

“No, you idiot. He’s a fucking vampire.”

What. “I don’t know, Ymir. I thought my idea was crazy, but…”

“I have proof, okay? Listen up, I’m about to school you on this Reiner kid.” She pauses dramatically and I roll my eyes. “I had a part time job at the butcher, ‘cause my cousin owns it.”

I frown, confused. “I thought you said you didn’t have family.”

“I said I don’t have parents. There’s a difference. _God_ , Krista, you’re so insensitive. You’re going to make me cry, you bully.”

I cover my mouth and cringe. “Shit, Ymir, I’m so sorry- that was _really_ rude.”

“You can make it up to me later, and I might forgive you.” She shakes her head. “Anyway, the day after they arrive, Annie or one of them goes to the butcher and orders like, three litres of blood. And I’m all like, okay, because some people like that shit in sauces or on their gardens or whatever. And the next day, Bertl or whatshisname comes in and orders three litres of blood. And the next day Reiner comes in and does the exact same thing. And I’m there thinking, how much blood does one family need? Do they bathe in the stuff? How big is their garden?”

She crosses her arms. “And that’s when I figured them for Vampires.”

“That’s insane!”

“You’re insane! _You_ thought he was a damn robot!”

“ _I_ was joking.” Mostly. Mostly joking. I fold my arms. “That still doesn’t explain why you hate them so much.”

“I told you, there’s this insane family rivalry. God, Krista, you don’t listen at all.”  

This girl is ridiculous. “You didn’t even know them until they moved here! God, Ymir, how the hell can you-“she cuts me off by putting a finger to my lips. No, Ymir, that’s not an appropriate thing to do.

“Ymir, this isn’t necessary-”

She tuts and shakes her head. “Hush, child.” You piece of shit, Ymir. “It’s eleven, and a school night. You should be getting home.”

I look down at her watch and start. Damn, she’s right. How long did we even spend talking about this bullshit?

“I can wash up,” I say suddenly. “I mean, the meal was lovely, thank you.” I grab her bowl, stack it on mine, and hold the forks in my hand. I set them in the sink with a _clunk_ and turn on the tap. Ymir stays in her seat, but she turns around to look at me questioningly.

“What, don’t you have to get up for school tomorrow?” she rests an elbow on the back of her chair. “I’m fully capable of washing up, thank you.” She says it like she’s irritated but she just looks amused.

“My stuff’s got to dry, there’s no way I can leave in this get-up.” I scrub a bowl furiously and she laughs.

“That dried ages ago! You’ve been here for what, six hours?” six hours, _Christ_. Where did the afternoon go? I couldn’t have spent three hours in the shower, could I?

“Yeah? Well, I’ve got to, um,” I rinse the bowl and put it on the sink. “I’ve got to…”

“What is it, Krista?” she looks concerned, or at least less apathetic.

“It’s dark,” I mutter. “I’m not a fan of the dark.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes, ever the martyr. “Fine, Krista, I’ll walk you home.” What a saint. Give this girl a peace prize.  I change into my freshly laundered, starchy-as-hell clothes. Ymir can cook, sure, Ymir can woodwork, yes, but Ymir _sucks_ at laundry.

Trost is quiet at night, a far cry from Maria. I can hear crickets and the low hoot of an owl, and for the first time I see  a whole sky full of stars and milky-way, not just the moon and a couple of satellites.

“What’s Maria like? Nothing like this hole, I bet.” Ymir looks at me out of the corner of her eye.

“It’s so nice here,” I say quietly. Ymir snorts loudly. “No, seriously. It’s peaceful, nothing like the city. I don’t have to worry about sirens and gangs and weirdos in the dark. I mean, except vampires, obviously.” I look at Ymir, but she doesn’t smile at the joke. Huh. She seriously thinks Reiner is a vampire. 

“There’ll always be weirdos,” she says after a long pause. “But there are less of them here. I guess I get what you mean, though.” She looks down at her feet, either deep in thought or faking it. “Do you mind living by yourself? I mean, away from your parents.”

I shake my head. “Not at all, it’s not like it’s a huge difference.” I sigh and kick a rock over to Ymir, “My father didn’t have much time for me, because I’m his bastard and all, so his wife and my mum hate me.”

Ymir kicks the rock back at me. “He sounds charming.”

“I dunno, he’s kind of a jerk. But, I can’t really hate them? They’re still my family, I guess. Blood’s thicker than water.” She chuckles and I stare at her. “Don’t be a dick, Ymir.”

“I’m not trying to be offensive, for real. But everyone quotes it wrong- see, the original quote is ‘the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,’ as in, if your family’s shit then don’t feel bad about liking your friends more. Or something like that.” She looks up at the sky and lets out a low whistle.

“I didn’t think about it like that.” I put my hands in my pockets and follow her lead. “Are you going to school tomorrow?”

“Me? Nah.” She snorts again and rolls her eyes. “I show up for exams and woodwork, and that’s good enough for me.”

“Oh, right.” Sasha said something about that, now I remember it. “I’ll be there, it’d be good to see you.” Whoa, calm down Krista. You’ve only known her for half a day; she might be a vampire or something. I roll my eyes at the thought. Vampires, ha. That’s still the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard. Robots are _way_ more realistic.

We reach my flat and Ymir fumbles in her pocket for a moment.  “You’re on your own, right?” she grabs my palm and places in it a pocket knife. She closes my palm and smiles awkwardly.  “It’s small, yeah, but you’re small too so-” I punch her shoulder with my free hand and her smile widens. “You could take someone’s eye out if you threw it, I bet. Or give them a really bad scratch. They might bleed, if you’re lucky.”

“That good, hey?”

“It’s a shitty knife, okay; I’ll be the first to admit it. But I reckon if you’re aggressive enough it’ll keep you safe.”

“Thanks, ‘mir” I mumble into my jumper. “fo’ your shitty knife.”

“Alright, shorty; goodnight.”

There’s a long pause where I gaze at Ymir and she stares back intensely. She opens her mouth to say something but stops herself, tilting her head down. I lick my lips and nod. “You’re still holding my hand, Ymir. I can’t move.”

Her eyes widen and she goes red, unclasping my hand quickly. “Right, okay,” she says quickly. She smiles, _totally_ calm-collected-and-confident, “g’night, Krista,” then she pats my head and turns away.

I shake my head as I walk insides and drop my bag at the foot of my bed. _What a dork._  I’m too tired to change into my pyjamas. I collapse on my bed, falling asleep instantly.

I had a weird dream, as if dreams weren’t ever strange, and in some corner of my mind I was aware of the fact I was dreaming. I was standing in the forest by Ymir’s house, green light filtering through big-ass trees. I walked idly, following the sound of the birds in the trees and trying to find my way out, but then Ymir was there tugging my hand, dragging me back to where I had come from. “Yo Krista,” she had said, “We’ve got to go,” and she dragged me with all her strength despite all of my resistance. I yielded, and she tripped backwards to the ground, twitching on the dim forest floor.

“Ymir!” I screamed, but it was too late. Ymir was gone; in her place was a large brown wolf with dark eyes. The wolf, _she_ , faced away from me, hair bristling and a growl bubbling in her throat.

Reiner stepped from the trees, the silhouettes of Bertholt and Annie behind him, skin glowing indistinctly, his eyes black and dangerous. He held up his hand and beckoned me towards him. I shook my head, the wolf snarled at my feet.

I took a step backwards, away from Reiner. He tilted his head briefly and smiled, teeth jagged, pointed. “Come on, Krista,” he purred, and I took another step away from him.

The wolf launched itself at Reiner, aiming straight at his throat.

I sat up in my bed, sweat dripping off my face. That was messed up, I acknowledged. That was really, _really_ messed up. I tried to rationalise the dream. Ymir was talking about vampires, wasn’t she? That’s why I dreamt about Reiner being a vampire. Makes perfect sense. And Ymir being a wolf? She’s… she’s kind of messy when she eats, and I can totally make a connection between wolves and tearing into food. That’s it. The dream means nothing. This isn’t some dumb cartoon where dreams mean anything. It’s just my brain dealing with shit, not a premonition.

I start as I hear rustling at the foot of my bed, and quietly I grasp the torch on my nightstand and turn it on. I see Reiner crouched at the foot of my bed.

“Shit!” I yelp, “What the hell, Reiner?”

He looks surprised, knuckles white on my bed frame. “I’m, I’m _so_ sorry,” he stammers, eyes wide. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, which is an uncomfortable comparison. I glance at the knife on my nightstand then glare back at him.

“Start explaining,” I say slowly, “or I swear to God I will-“

“Okay! Okay!” he throws up his hands. “I just thought that- I thought you looked really cute and..." he looks to the side and plays with his collar.

I grab the knife and grit my teeth. “Reiner, if you don’t tell me, I am going to-” I jab the knife at him to demonstrate exactly what I’d do with it.  He ducks and covers him head with his hands.

“I just wanted to see if you were any cuter asleep! That’s it!”

“That’s it? Reiner, what the actual fuck!?- this isn’t what I meant by ‘hanging out’ later!” I bring my knees up to my chest. “Reiner, you- is this an Alaskan thing? The whole ‘lack of boundaries’?”

He shakes his head, looking ashamed. “I don’t know why,” he says quietly. “This is really out of character for me. I’ve been acting weird all week,” he adds sheepishly.

I rub my temples, bewildered by the whole situation. “Get out, Reiner,” I hiss, “or I’ll call the damn cops on you.” I point my torch in the direction of the door and he hurries off, sparkling as he crosses the beam. That’s weird, I think as I go to sleep. Really weird.


	3. Chapter 3

Vampires were on my mind the whole day, and I caught myself glancing between Reiner and Ymir all morning. Ymir had decided to rock up to school, claiming ‘there are only so many things to do in a forest’. During a study break, I logged into one of the school computers, hesitantly typing a single query; _vampire_.

There were a tonne of websites out there devoted to collecting information and mythos and sightings of these creatures, depictions ranging from hunched monsters to pop-cultural sex-gods. I skimmed through these websites quickly, becoming more and more alarmed by how many characteristics Reiner matched.

He had the strength, speed, cold and pasty skin, shifting eyes, and- if Ymir was to be believed- the appetite for blood. I rest my forehead on the desk, groaning. It looked like Ymir was right. She was going to be insufferable.

As I look back at the website and another detail catches my eye; _‘enemy of the werewolf’._ Oh. Oh my God. This is insane. Ymir has a lot of explaining to do.

I clean up the desk and hurry out of the library, and someone calls my name. I turn around cautiously, facing the front of the building. It’s Reiner, waving his arm as he jogs towards me. Shit. I stiffen and glare at him.

He rubs the back of his neck and looks at his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “I want to apologise about last night,” he says finally. “Again, properly.” He fidgets with his hands as he looks at me, more nervous than I expected someone near twice my height to ever look when standing face to face with me.

“You already apologised,” I said flatly. He shakes his head slowly.

“Not properly, though. Please; just hear me out?” he looks at me expectantly and I roll my eyes, but I nod for him to continue. “Last night was weird and odd and definitely, _definitely_ creepy, okay? I don’t know what possessed me to do it.” He mutters something into his sleeve about having particularly poor impulse control at times, then coughs and scratches his neck. “And I know I can’t really justify sneaking into your room to watch you sleep- who even does that? - but I want you to know I am very, very sorry, and if you want to you can punch me or something.”

“Reiner,” I start, before sighing and shrugging. “You know what; this has been a really weird week for me. We all do dumb shit, it’s okay. Some people just do _really_ dumb shit. You’re right, what you did was really damn creepy and you nearly gave me a heart-attack. But you know what, Reiner?” I walk up to him and tap his shoulder. He stiffens.  “I forgive you. I am your friend, and more importantly your lab-partner.” I pat his elbow and his whole body relaxes.

“So you’re not going to attack me with a scalpel in Biology?” he jests, and I shake my head, half-smiling. He smiles widely, swinging his backpack on. “You want to walk to class, then?”

Reiner turned out to be a pretty cool guy, despite the quirks and occasional lack of impulse control. He told me about how he moved the Trost earlier this year, along with his cousin Annie and his maybe-boyfriend Bertholt. I asked him why he was in my room if he had a maybe-boyfriend and he shrugged, genuinely uncertain. “I still don’t know, it’s been bugging me all day. Seems like some greater force was fucking with me for shits and giggles.”

During science I find myself still glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, watching him carefully. This boy is a vampire. Never mind I still haven’t wrapped my head around the idea supernatural existing, the supernatural exists and is sitting next to me in class; drawing dumb-ass cartoons of skinless people.

“Hey, Reiner,” I say quietly. He turns his head towards me by a fraction, so to avoid being caught by Hanji. “Can I ask you a question?” he nods slightly, nearly invisible eyebrows rising. “Are you a vampire?”

He startles and coughs, somehow becoming even paler, as if that was possible. I tilt my head forward, raising an eyebrow. “you owe me, remember?”

He licks his lips nervously. “Yeah, I’m a vampire. Keep it on the down-low, okay?”

I nod, smiling to myself. “Cool. Just interested, that’s all.” God damn it. I’m not uncomfortable at my lab partner being a mythical sex-god, nothing like that. My feelings on the matter were something like a grunt and a shrug, totally apathetic towards Reiner’s and Annie’s and Bertholt’s supposed innate abilities to woo us mere mortals. My thinking is more along the lines of; vampires, huh. What else- is Mikasa secretly a demon?  Armin a ghost?

I entertained the thought for the rest of the period, coming up with even more outlandish ideas for each of the people I’d see at lunch. It was harmless, really. None of the people I sat with had any indicators of being supernatural, except maybe Reiner. Now I knew it, it was blindingly obvious- he listened to vintage jazz and opera for fun, he tore through old books without having to google every second word. He was either a vampire, or a massive hipster.

Hanji assigned us a stack of papers to read on the cardiovascular system and the whole class groaned. Reiner rolled his eyes. “Hey, Reiner,” he side-eyes me again and I nod. “If you’re this century old vampire, why’re you at school?”

He looks taken aback and shakes his head. “Century old- what? Krista, I’ve only been a vampire for like, a year.”

I smile and nod and look back at my work, scrunching up my face. God, I’m so bad at this. He _is_ a massive hipster. I need to lay off making assumptions about people, clearly.

I sit in Ymir’s seat again at lunch. She came up behind me and lifted me over to the side, grunting. “Stop stealing my spot, short-fry.” She smirks and ruffles my hair, resting her arm on my shoulder. She makes a grab for a piece of my lasagne and I bat her hand away.

“Not today, buddy.” I shove a slice in my mouth before she can take it. “I didn’t have breakfast this morning. I’m _starving._ ”

“What the hell, Krista?” Ymir snatches a piece before I can stop her and I press my fist against her cheek.

“Hey, I said wait. I just slept in, bad dream and stuff.” I neglect to mention Reiner. No need to give her more fuel for her Reiner hate-fire.

“Bull _shit_ Krista. I saw you up at five, on some dumbass walk. Who even gets up at that time?” You, evidently. She waits patiently for me to grab another slice before she takes my left overs. “What’s really up?”

I shrug. “I had a bad dream, that’s it. It messed my morning up.” She reaches for a chip and I stop her hand. She’s surprisingly warm, almost burning up, despite the lack of sleeves and long pants. This girl, I swear to god. “Hey, Ymir, can I talk to you outside?” Connie makes a low whistle and Sasha giggles. Ymir glares at them, but Connie just bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, alright. Need to get away from these nerds,” she says gruffly. “Lead the way.”

We sit on a bench in the cold. I start to shiver and she rolls her eyes, putting an arm around my shoulder. “Okay, Krista. What did you want to talk about?”

“You were right,” I say nonchalantly, hoping she won’t make a big deal out of it. “Reiner’s a vampire.”

She makes a big deal out of it, grinning so wide it looks like her dumb face is going to split in two. “I fucking told you, man! Suck shit, motherfu-” I hit her in the stomach and she wheezes, still laughing. “Hey, alright! Damn, Krista, who taught you how to punch?”

I shake my head, ignoring her question. “I know what you are,” I say quietly, carefully. I turn my body so I’m facing her, rubbing my hands together. It’s too damn cold out here and I want to get this over and done with.

Her eyes narrow and she smiles crookedly, sitting back. “Yeah?” she leans back on the bench and raises an eyebrow, like this is some kind of game. “Try me.”

“You’re warm, like, really warm. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear sleeves. I don’t think you even _own_ sleeves, you weirdo. You eat a lot too, and normally I’d just assume you were really active and had a high metabolism but it turns out that you’re really lazy, and you can do like, two sit-ups before you collapse. Not to mention you really, really hate vampires for some reason.” I go over through my head, trying to see if I missed anything. “And you smell like a wet dog when it rains.”

“I do not,” she growls, “And even if I did, what’s your point?”

“Werewolf. You’re a werewolf, Ymir.”

She pats my head and gives me a toothy smile. “I was worried you’d think I was a toaster or something, goddess.”

“That’s not even funny, oh my _God_.” That was one time. I thought Reiner was a robot _one time._ This girl can’t let things go. “Why couldn’t you just say you were a werewolf?”

“You could’ve asked, you know. It’s not like you believed me about Reiner, anyway. You’d think I was crazy or somethin’.” She mumbles something about ‘you probably wouldn’t hang out with me if you thought I was crazy,’ which is a pitiful and wholly un-Ymir thing to say. I pat her head awkwardly.

“Man, there’s nothing weird about you being a werewolf- well, it’s a little weird but _whatever_ ,” I shrug, “this whole week’s been strange, you know? I think I’m moving to a quiet ol’ town in the middle of fuck-knows-where, and it turns out that my lab partner’s a vampire and my friend’s a werewolf. This sounds like poorly written young-adult novel, if you get me.”

Her face softens and she smiles to herself, and I lean on her shoulder absently. She’s really warm, and it’s _really_ damn cold out here but I will not be the one to give in. I will not give her the satisfaction.

Ymir coughs suddenly and looks around. Connie has his face pressed against the cafeteria window, watching us. Ymir flips him off and he grins, giving her thumbs up before being dragged back to his seat by Sasha. She curls her lip and looks back at me. “What a nerd, hey?” she laughs, acting as casually as she can. “You into horror movies?”

“Hate ‘em. You?”

“Oh yeah, hate them.” She says unconvincingly, scratches her neck. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over? I mean, it’s a Friday. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

I smile. “Okay, Ymir, I’ll come over and watch shitty movies with you. It sounds great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's kind of short, sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ymir and Krista have a sleepover.

Ymir fell asleep during maths, and drifted in and out of consciousness during history. The teachers were less than impressed, but neither of them said anything; the sheer presence of Ymir in a class was weird enough for them to just let it pass.

She walks me back to my flat after the final bell of the week rings out. It’s still bitterly cold when we arrive at her cabin; I thank every god I can think of her house is properly insulated. I don’t know why I even dream of a temperature above icy; it’s clearly never going to happen. Ymir flicks on her heating system and stretches violently, I hear her joints crack and I cringe. Ymir, oblivious as ever, rolls her shoulders and yawns.  “Alright, what time is it?” She twists her chest and pops her knuckles, more fucking cracks.

I make a face. “Are you serious? School barely ended half an hour ago.” She stretches her arms and I groan loudly. “And stop cracking your joints, _oh my god._ ”

“So you’re one of _those_ people,” she says as she picks her nose and wipes it on her shorts. “You can’t blame me, anyway. I slept funny in maths, screwed my back right up.”

As I rub my temples she opens up a bar-fridge and pulls out a box of frozen pizza, sticks a knife into the side of the box and cuts it out. She slices off a section of the edge and eats it raw. I roll my eyes. “What?” she gestures the knife at me and wipes sauce off her mouth. “I don’t usually have a routine. Sleep whenever, eat whenever, and go to school _maybe._ ” She licks the knife and I cringe again. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t usually have people over, and never twice in a row. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with guests.”

I walk up next to her and poke at the pizza. “I don’t understand how you can eat so much, honestly. And I don’t have much experience with being a guest, so I call it even.”

She peels off the plastic wrap- I wonder if she ate some of it before- and rests the knife dangerously close to her lips as she talks. “What? Sweet, angelic, precious Krista has never been invited over to someone’s place before?” she tuts and shakes her head. “Forgive me if I find it hard to believe.”

I throw the plastic in the bin and wash my hands. “It’s true, though. I didn’t hang out with kids my age in Maria.” I look at my hands wistfully for a moment. Maria felt a lifetime away, even though I’d barely been here a week.

 I look up to Ymir staring at me, faintly amused or irritated or something. She awkwardly pats my arm. “Sucks, bro.”

She goes back to the pizza and shoves it in the oven, then squats and looks in the fridge again. “My laptop’s on the couch,” she mumbles. “I’ve got TV shows and movies in a file; go choose something to watch while I cook more stuff to eat.”

Ymir’s laptop was in surprisingly good condition despite the slob of an owner and I did what any person would do when given a friend’s laptop; I searched for a porn stash. Despite thorough searching through suspiciously labelled files, no porn was found. What I did find, however, was obscene amounts of illegally downloaded media.

“Is _Blair Witch_ any good?” I ask, perhaps a little too lightly.

Ymir shudders and shakes her head. “We’re not watching _Blair Witch_ , not this close to a forest.” she leans on my shoulder and reaches for the track-pad. “I’m feeling like a _Lord of the Rings_ marathon, personally.”

I shrug and move the laptop in between us. “Fine, but don’t forget about the pizza. If the house catches on fire I’m blaming you personally.”

I’ve seen the trilogy too many times to count so I watch Ymir out of the corner of my eye as the movie loads. She mouths along with the voice-over, word for word.

“Hey, Ymir, I got a joke.”

She stops quoting the movie and looks at me. “Yeah, what is it?”

“How did the hobbit- wait, fuck.” I hold up a finger as I try to remember the joke. “Okay, okay. Why wasn’t the hobbit allowed to box?”

She rolls her eyes, glancing back at the movie. “this had better be good.”

“Because he tried to destroy the ring!”

She shakes her head slowly. “That was shit. I got a better one, right; Knock knock.”

I hate knock-knock jokes. “Who’s there?”

“Hobbit.”

“Hobbit who?”

“Hobbit letting me in.”

I frown and look away. “Yeah, sorry Ymir. I don’t get it.”

She frowns in return. “Hobbit kind of sounds like ‘how ‘bout’, right? So the joke is a play on words…”

I pat her forearm, feigning pity. “Ymir; I’m sorry that your joke was shit. Like, really shit. I forgive you, though.”

She shakes her head and looks away, acting disgusted. “You wouldn’t know humour if it bit you on the arse, Krista. I’m clearly just more mature then you.”

She yawns forcefully and stretches her arms above her head, rotating her shoulders. The cracking still makes me cringe. With a grunt, she brings her arms down and wraps one around my shoulder. I roll my eyes and stifle a grin as I lean into her.

She rests her head on mine and stiffens.

“Pizza,” she whispers, alarmed. “I forgot about the pizza.”

She stands up and I pause the movie on a shot of Gandalf and Bilbo blowing smoke rings on the grass. She runs, sprints to the oven and curses loudly. “Aw, fuck _me_ ,” she whines. I amble towards the kitchen. Ymir stares mournfully at a slightly over-done pizza. She wipes her nose.

“Don’t be pathetic, Ymir.” I pat her shoulder.

She picks at a singed meatball and shakes her head. “I forgot to set the alarm,” she says sheepishly. “I could have set this whole place on fire. What a shitty way to go, eh?” she sniffs and eats the charred meatball.

She microwaves a bag of chips while she scrapes the burnt-bits off the pizza, and splits up the pizza between us. I notice that she gives herself the slices that are more noticeably burnt. She shoves a handful in her mouth and wipes her hands on her shorts. “You don’t eat much, do you?” she nods towards my plate. I pick at it.

“Maybe it’s because you always eat my food before I can,” I shrug and she looks apologetic. “Christ, Ymir, I’m joking! I’m half your size; I couldn’t eat as much as you if I tried.”

She smiles crookedly, pushing her hair out of her eyes. A loud beep comes from her couch and she runs off and swears again, louder. “Fu-u-uck, oh my _god_.” She runs her hands through her hair and looks at me apologetically. “You’re not going to believe this, Krista; my laptop’s died.”

“You don’t have a charger?”

She avoids my gaze. “It’s being repaired. Fuck, this is so embarrassing- everything’s gone wrong.” She wrings her hands.

This is incredible. I am almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things that have fucked-up in the past twenty minutes. I steel myself as I grab her arms on each side and stare up at her, trying as hard as I can to be intimidating. “Ymir,” I say firmly, “chill the fuck out. You have a TV, right?” she nods and I continue. “Right, right. We are going to watch some shitty TV movie, Ymir, but first we’re, no, _you’re_ , going to finish this ass-tonne of food you’ve managed to cook.”

“This movie is _awful_ ,” I grumble half an hour later. I reach over Ymir and grab a tepid slice of pizza. She pats my knee and smiles saccharinely.

“It’ll get better, I bet.”

“This movie is so, so shit,” I groan about an hour and a half in. I rest my head on my lap and sigh loudly. She looks at me, amused, picks idly at a thread in her jeans. She pats my thigh.

“I’m sure it’s nearly over, you know.”

“This movie is the worst,” I whine almost two hours in. “And you’re a fucking liar, Ymir,”

She tuts. “You won’t let me change the channel.”

I press my forehead against her shoulder, restless from watching a shitty movie for two hours. “We’ve gone this far, Ymir. I’m not quitting. I can’t quit. I refuse to give in.”

She pats my head. “I’m going to read the TV guide, Krista. If the movie doesn’t end in, like, fifteen minutes, I am turning this godforsaken program off. You’re being stubborn.”

“Oh, _I’m_ stubborn-” I yawn suddenly and lose my train of thought. Ymir takes that as an opportunity to turn the television off and glance at her watch.

“I don’t know about you, Kris, but I’m exhausted.” She definitely sounds tired; her voice is softer than usual. I wouldn’t say she sounds _exhausted_ , though. “Can you help me drag some mattresses out?”

I try to rub my eyes in the least-tired way possible. “There’s a sofa right here,” I say as I gesture down at the sofa we are indeed sitting on. I don’t have the energy to carry something at least twice my height.

She pauses and looks at me carefully. “There are two of us.”

“Can’t it do the thing where, um, where it-” I gesture aimlessly. Ymir looks at me and raises an eyebrow. “Shit, Ymir, it’s on the tip of my tongue. The thing, where the sofa folds out into a bed.”

“Sofa bed,” she says flatly. “It’s called a sofa bed.”

“Right, whatever.so this isn’t a sofa bed?”

“Krista. _If_ this was a sofa bed, do you think I’d ask you to help me grab mattresses to sleep on?”

“Oh, true. Lead the way.”

We set up the mattresses next to each other underneath the sofa.

Ymir’s would feet hang off the edge of her mattress if she didn’t curl up into herself, which I find kind of amusing. She lies there wordlessly, knees bent at right-angles and her head resting on her arm. It’s light enough for me to make out her facial structure, but it’s too dark for me to tell if she’s awake or not.

“Hey, Ymir,” I whisper. She makes a low humming noise in response. I figure that means she’s awake, or she’s a sleep talker. “This has been really cool, you know?”

She doesn’t respond for a while. “Yeah,” she says finally, “It’s been pretty cool. Sorry it’s been such a mess.”

I reach over to touch the hand she’s not sleeping on and pat it. “I wouldn’t call it a mess, Ymir. Besides; as much as I loathe admitting it, I probably wouldn’t have survived a _Lord of the Rings_ marathon.”

“Weak,” She grunts, but I can see the shadows of her face shift into a smile. “You’re pretty cool for a nerd, shortstop.”

“You’re pretty cool for an antisocial grump,” I shoot back. She chuckles.

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. At some point her breathing becomes slow and heavy. “You asleep, Ymir?” I ask softly. She doesn’t reply. “I guess that’s a yes, then.”

I roll over onto my side again and fall asleep.

I wake up to Ymir’s gentle snoring and her hand resting on my waist, pulled close to me. I can feel her breath all soft on my neck. “Ymir,” I whisper. “Ymir.” once again, there’s no response. I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. Oh my god, Ymir; you smooth bastard.

I guess Ymir’s kind of cute, in an obnoxious way. Good facial structure; nice eyes. I rest my palm under my head. Am I into her?

I guess I am kind of into her.  Huh. I suppose I didn’t really think about it too much, considering how much has been going on for me in the past few weeks. Shit, have I been here this long already? It feels like I only moved in a few days ago.

She coughs softly, startling me, and shuffles her arms over my hip. Shit. Can people cough if they’re asleep? Shit, she could be awake right now. That would be awkward. That would be really, really awkward. It’s awkward enough that her arms are wrapped around my waist, and that I can feel her breathing on me; but if she was doing this all _consciously_...

Not complaining, though. I’m over thinking this. It’s nice, having someone, having _her,_ this close to me.

I drift off again and wake up to yelping coming from the kitchen. I roll off my mattress and sluggishly get to my feet, trying to flatten out the creases in my clothes, the kind of ones that come from sleeping in clothing that you’re not supposed to sleep in. I grab Ymir’s jumper, thrown on the floor, and pull it over my head as I walk to the kitchen. “The fuck are you yelling about,” I mumble, pulling up a chair.

She whips around to face me, sucking on her thumb and grimacing. “I cut myself. I made breakfast, though.”

I pull up a chair and sit down, facing her. “Yeah, what?”

“Baked-beans on toast.”

I frown. “What the hell did you cut yourself on?”

She grabs a plaster and wraps her thumb in it, ignoring the question.

“Ymir, seriously. What did you cut yourself on?”

“The can, I was being dumb”

I sigh and grab a slice of the toast. “That’s a surprise. Can you go an hour without nearly killing yourself?” I pause. “Or anyone around you?”

She stares at me for a moment before grinning. “You’re rude first thing in the morning, Krista. I like it. Better than being this sweet little pushover all the time.” She goes to pat my hair and I duck, half-heartedly trying to get out of her reach.

“I haven’t had a coffee yet, that’s my excuse.”

“I’m _sure_ of it. There’s no way you’re actually a normal, grumpy human under all that niceness.” She ruffles my hair affectionately. “Do you want a coffee? I’ll make you a coffee.”

“You’re surprisingly chipper in the morning,” I comment after swallowing a mouthful of toast. “Considering how _damn_ unapproachable you act at school.”

She grabs a mug and half fills it with coffee. “Who says it’s an act? Maybe I’m a genuinely terrible person, Krista. I haven’t scared you off yet, though. Sugar?”

I hold up two fingers and she measures the appropriate amount into the mug. She gestures to the milk and I shake my head, so she fills the mug. “Yeah? For an aloof bitch you seem to be a pretty good at snuggling.”

Ymir stops, turns scarlet, and pushes the mug towards me.

I laugh quietly to myself when she bashfully looks away. It’s so strange to see Ymir; tall, loud and obnoxious, look embarrassed about anything. I change the subject quickly.

“So, you’re a werewolf, right?” I say with a straight face, grabbing my mug and finishing off the last of my toast. “How come you never shapeshift? We wouldn’t have had to grab mattresses if you were this big fluffy-ass wolf-thing.”

She stares me down from her mug and swallows. “What, you take the sofa and I sleep on the floor? Nice try, sunshine, but that’s not how Ymir rolls.”

“I was thinking you could’ve slept on the end and kept my feet warm, but that works too.” I run my finger around the edge of my plate. “You didn’t answer my question, either.”

“It’s just kind of… awkward, you know? Dogs do weird shit when they sleep. Kick and stuff, start running.” She trails off with something indistinct.

I lean forward. “What was that?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing, seriously.”

“No, you can’t do that. If you’re going to mumble something, you may as well say it clearly.”

“Damn, Krista. When did you become my mum?”

“Ymir.”

“Okay, like, I can go from this hundred-thirty-eight pound person to a hundred-thirty-eight pound wolf, because that’s basic conservation of mass, right?”

I grimace. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

“I understand that does not explain how I can turn into a wolf, Krista, but it makes sense. If I weigh a certain amount, I can’t just grow more… stuff.”

“Right. But you can grow fur, claws, teeth, and a fluffy tail.” _What else?_ “Is that a normal weight for a big-ass wolf?”

She hushes me. “You’ll accept robots, you’ll accept vampires, but you won’t accept werewolves. That’s fucking racist. Speciesist. Whatever.”

I have a feeling that something’s not quite right with Ymir’s reasoning, but I let it go.

 “Where was I going with this… um, I can turn into a wolf, right, the same way you can flex your arm. It’s a bit more difficult, obviously, but it’s something you can do consciously. Clothing is independent of that. I can’t make my sleeves roll up, not matter how hard I think about it.”

“Your analogies are so weird,” I sigh. “Wait, so what you’re saying is-“

“Yes, Krista. Shapeshifting leaves my sorry-ass butt-naked in the middle of a forest, more often than not.”

“And you can’t just walk home as a wolf?”

“First off, no. If some motherfucker sees this big-ass wolf gaiting towards town, this big-ass wolf is likely to get shot. Plus, I can’t work the door without hands.”

“Get a really big cat-flap.”

“That’s degrading.”

I rest my head on my hand. “I’d really like to see you as a wolf, though. What about if I brought a change of clothes for you, in case you mess it up?”

She smiles lecherously. “If you want to see me naked you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

I blush. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Sure,” she grins as she turns away. “Sure-sure.” She grabs my plate and stacks them in her dishwasher. “For serious, though, I’ll think about it.”

She comes back a few minutes later and collapses on the couch. “You strike a hard bargain, Krista,” she begins dramatically. I roll my eyes and she grins at me. “But I’ve realised that you’ve probably never experienced the wonders of seeing a werewolf. Or my magnificent back muscles.”

“Back muscles my arse; I bet you can’t even do a push-up.”

She rolls onto the floor and does a push-up. “Sure I can,” she says nonchalantly as she does another. “Wolves have to be fit and tough to kill shit, right? And it crosses over; conservation of mass.”

“That’s not what conservation of mass is-”

“Shut up, man! You know what I mean.”

I don’t. I really, really don’t. “Yeah, I get you.” I nod. “Where do the clothes go, though?”

 “What?”

“You said when you shift you lose your clothes, right?”

“ _Most_ of the time. Most I lose my clothes.”

“Yeah, okay. Where do the clothes go?” I steel myself for what I’m about to say. “Conservation of mass, and all that jazz.” Urgh.

“Sometimes I get lucky, you know?” she starts humming and I roll my eyes. “I’ll shift back and I’ll be all like, whoa; I’m not naked? Two jumpers? _Crazy._ ” She shakes her head. “We going for a walk or not? I want to be outside before all the dweebs are awake.”

I stand up. Ymir’s still sprawled out on the carpet, not even trying to make an effort to move. I kick her in the ribs.

“Let’s get going, you lazy butt.”

She rolls half-heartedly towards her bedroom. “I’m packing lunch. And a change of clothes, I guess.” She does a few more pathetic rotations before groaning and heaving herself back onto her feet.

It takes half an hour more time than anticipated for Ymir to finally get ready, because Ymir decided that she wanted to make a stack of toasted sandwiches.

“Shifting’s a workout, you know?” she said through a mouthful of bread, wrapping the last of the grilled cheese sandwiches. “Gotta have the ability to carbo-load after.”

“Carbo-loading happens before an event, _not_ after.”

She tries to shush me, but proves unsuccessful with a mouthful of half-eaten sandwich. “Carbs are important after a work-out, too. God, Krista, you’re so insensitive.”

“Christ, just finish already.”

She winks. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I sigh. “I don’t actually understand half the shit you say.”

By the time we actually get outside, it’s nearly midday. As we near the forest, I spot Connie on the other side of the road. I wave at him; he whistles and gives me a thumbs-up. Ymir flips him off.

“Hey, Ymir,” I say as we walks through some big-ass trees, “is there any reason you don’t wear shoes?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, right now you’re not wearing shoes. I’m not going to lie, it’s kind of strange.”

“I don’t have any that fit,” she says. “I had a growth-spurt a while ago. Besides, shoes a kind of stupid-” she yelps as she treads on a stick poking out of the dirt. “Aww, fuck-me that hurts.” She limps over to a log and sits on it. She looks at me and tilts her head. “Can you check it out, Kris?”

“Fuck no.”

“Can you check it out, _please_ , Kris?”

“hell-to-the-fucking-no.” I kneel down anyway. She puts the foot near my head and I bat it away. “God, don’t shove it in my face!”

“sorry.” She said, not sounding remotely sorry. I sit back a little bit more and lift her foot up.

“I’m going to break it too you gently, Ymir. It’s gross. I’m not enjoying looking at it, and you’re going to have to amputate your whole damn leg.”

“How’s the wound, though.”

“It’s tiny. It’s like a little, tiny stab wound from a little tiny elf.”

She chuckles. “Why’d you have to stab me, Krista?”

“I am going to beat you up, Ymir. Do you have any antiseptic solution?”

“No.”

“Do you have iodine?”

“No.”

I sigh and purse my lips. “Do you have any spirits on you, Ymir? Like whiskey, I guess.”

“No,” she says far too quickly.

“ _Ymir._ ”

“Fuck that noise! I’m just going to do the wolf-thing right now. That’ll fix it.”

“Yeah, okay, but how?”

“I dunno, but it works. I’m not going to question it. Turn around, I’m getting changed.”

While I wait for Ymir to do the ‘wolf-thing’, I decide to check out the surroundings. To give Ymir credit, she certainly knows a good place to stab herself in the foot. We’ve reached a glade, a few metres in front of me is a thick log and behind that is a small stream.  “Hey, Ymir,” I call behind me. “I’m surprised you didn’t say anything about ‘conservation of mass’ or something.”

“Krista, I find your lack of faith disturbing.”

“Is that a Star Wars reference? Damn nerd.”

I can hear her snigger, even from here. I climb on the log and stand on it.

“Why are you getting changed, anyway? Do you need special shifting clothes or something?”

“Nah,” I hear her zip her rucksack shut. “I figured out something right now, okay? If I’m not wearing clothes when I shift, that means I can’t lose clothes. Heck, it might even double my chances of getting my clothes _back_.”

“So; wait,” I say carefully. “What you’re saying right now is that you’re naked?”

“You could assume that, yes.”

“Ymir, what the fuck?” my face heats up.

I can hear Ymir aggressively cracking her joints and unsurprisingly I cringe so much I can feel my face actually receding back into my neck. The popping and snapping doesn’t stop for a good minute, and when it finally does I turn around to see whether or not Ymir’s managed to fuck it up and snap herself in half.

Ymir’s not there anymore. A wolf is; a big fucking wolf that looks like it’s going to wreck something. “Holy shit, Ymir.” The wolf approaches me and presses it’s forehead against mine, glaring. “Hey, Ymir cut that out.” The wolf growls, and suddenly I remember all the shitty werewolf movies I’ve seen where someone changes form and goes insane. This is probably it, I realise. This is how I die.

The wolf barks and licks my face. I punch her in the shoulder and push my hair out of my face.

“Ymir, you dickhead. I thought you were going to kill me.” She barks again and rolls onto her back.

“No, rack off. I’m _so_ angry at you.” I’m pretty sure my laughter gives me away.

She lays down on her front and I can hear the god-awful cracking noise start to build up so I turn around and let her change back into a person in private. the noise stops and she yells up at me. “Hey, awesome! I got my favourite shirt back.” She stands up and dusts the grass off her legs.

“Ymir put some pants on.”

“You can’t stop me! I’m wearing underpants, that counts.” She lifts up her shirt to show that she is, in fact, wearing underpants.

“Did you know that before you flashed me?”

She doesn’t reply.

Standing on this log I’m about a foot taller than her. “Hey, Ymir,” I start.

She nods her head expectantly.

“What was last night about, anyway?”

“What about last night?” she looks away and wets her lips nervously. She knows exactly where I’m going with this. “Look, uh, Krista, I just think you’re kind of-” she coughs and looks the other direction, still not looking at me. “I mean, _what I’m trying to say_ is that I think you’re pretty cool and…”

“Ymir,” I say gently. “Look at me.”

She clears her throat and looks at her feet, still mumbling something. It’s kind of cute in an infuriating way that makes me want to punch her in the face. I do what anyone would do in my situation, I hold the back of her head and kiss her.

I pull away. “Ymir, you useless sack of shit, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Shit,” she mumbles as she places her hands on my hips, smiling lopsidedly. “that’d be rad. It’s all like Beauty and the Beast or some shit.”

I run my fingers through her hair and pull her in again. “Let me guess,” I mumble into her mouth. “You’re the beauty, right?”

 She chuckles. “Something like that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry how late this is, wow.  
> Also, thanks for sticking around and reading a first-attempt at writing/publishing fanfic! it was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.


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